The Healing Properties of Roots
by Adison
Summary: The summer after his 5th year, Harry visits number 12, Grimmauld Place and starts picking up the pieces.
1. One

**The Healing Properties of Roots**

_A was-going-to-be-very-short story that amazingly enough grew without sunlight or adequate food. Sort of pointless, but hey, what isn't? Separated into three uneven chapters, but complete._

_Reviews embraced tightly and given pastries._

+ 

Harry stared at the crooked number 12 at Grimmauld Place. Tonks had shown up at number 4, Privet Drive only hours ago to escort him to London to spend his last week of holiday catching up with Order news and visiting the residents. 

He paused, his hand outstretched, reaching for the door, and reminded himself, silently, that Sirius wasn't on the other side. A small nudge from Tonks prompted him forward and he turned the doorknob carefully. He stepped inside and heard a pregnant silence, as if there had been speaking only a moment before.

"It's me!" Tonks said loudly, shutting the door behind her. "I've got him!"

An ear-shattering shriek answered her. "FILTH! DISGUSTING CREATURES! YOU VILE, HATED BEINGS-"

Tonks jumped in surprise and groped into her robes for her wand. "Gads! I thought they had shut her up!" She attempted to stun the portrait, only to have Mrs. Black duck into the side of the frame. "You beastly woman!" Tonks shouted over the painting's renewed wails. "Hold still!" She waved her wand again and Mrs. Black was suddenly motionless, her expression tortured. Harry stepped back as Tonks grabbed an umbrella from the troll-leg stand and whacked the picture with it. Mrs. Black, frozen in mid-shriek, stayed still. Tonks hit the painting again with a satisfying _thunk,_ and the canvas tore down the middle, ripping Mrs. Black in half. Tonks dropped the umbrella and turned back to Harry, grinning. "You have no idea how good that felt."

Harry stared at her with unconcealed astonishment.

She turned, beckoning him down the stairs into the kitchen, and he followed silently. 

A fire was burning in the stone fireplace and a few people were seated around the scrubbed kitchen table.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley leaped out of her chair and embraced him tightly. In spite of himself, Harry gave a small smile. He looked around the kitchen over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder and saw that several Order members he knew were there. Mundungus rolled his pipe to the side of his mouth and grinned his welcome, Kingsley waved, Mrs. Figg clasped her hands together and looked utterly delighted. Mrs. Weasley released her hold on him, but gripped his shoulders and began to fuss about his appearance. "Handsome as ever, dear, but you're terribly thin; they're feeding you, aren't they?" Harry gave a noncommittal nod and craned his neck around to see who else was there. Professor McGonagall was seated next to Mr. Weasley, who was beside Bill. Ron was sitting on the floor by the hearth next to Ginny (who was covered with what looked like dirt and grease), and Tonks had just sat down on the kitchen bench by a tired-but-smiling Lupin. "Hello, Harry," he said hoarsely. Harry smile weakly. 

"Well, we should be off," Kingsley stood up, stretching. His usually bald head was stubbly and there were bags under his eyes.

"But… I… don't you—" Harry watched helplessly as all four members started towards the door. "The Weasleys will fill you in, dear. And Remus and Tonks." Mrs. Figg patted his arm and tiptoed up the stairs. 

"Potter," Professor McGonagall acknowledged him before heading up the stairs herself. Kingsley pulled a groggy-eyed Mundungus to the stairway and nodded to the rest of the room. 

"Evenin'," Mundungus mumbled as he was yanked up the stairs. 

A short silence followed their departure. 

"What's Tonks told you, then, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked suddenly, sitting up straighter on the bench. 

"Er—" Harry started.

"Nothing, Arthur," Tonks said. "Not much chance to chat when you're freezing your bum off on a broom."

"Oh," Mr. Weaslsey said, looking slightly amused. "Right. Well, then, Harry, I suppose you're curious. Don't have the _Prophet_ delivered to the Muggle's house, by any chance, eh?"

Harry shook his head. 

"Ah, well, probably not missing much. Well, lad, it looks like… well, that is to say so far there hasn't… erm…"

"Nothing's happened." Mrs. Weasley said, looking sour. 

"What?"

"Absolutely nothing," Mr. Weasley responded. "That's what I meant to say."

"What do you mean nothing's happened? How could nothing have happened?"

"Malfoy's still in Azkaban, refusing to talk, Fudge is still dazed, and Voldemort – oh, hush, all of you – is still cooped up God knows where. We haven't been able to track him."

"Damn," Harry swore.

Lupin glanced at Tonks briefly and then looked at Harry.

"No relief?" he asked quietly. "He's still in hiding; he must be scared."

Harry gave Lupin a side-long look. "He should be."

"That's the spirit," said the grinning voice of Ginny Weasley. 

"How're you, mate?" Ron asked carefully, studying Harry's face for a reaction.

"Fine," Harry responded automatically.

Bill snorted. "Right you are, Harry." He stood and stretched. "I'm off to bed – early call tomorrow." He groaned. "These desk jobs are a nightmare."

"Yes," Ron said, grinning, "but '_eeevery cloud hez a seelver lining, no?_'" 

Bill glared as he made his way to the stairwell. 

"Can you fix Mrs. Black, Bill?" Tonks asked. She looked very tired all of a sudden, and laid her head in her arms on the table. Lupin raised a tentative hand and placed it gingerly on her back. "I ripped her."   
"Again?" Bill said, exasperated. 

"Yes, again," Tonks snapped. 

Bill _harrumphed _and disappeared up the dark staircase.

"Where is he staying?" Harry asked, his gaze lingering on the doorway.

"Here," Lupin said, now absently massaging Tonk's shoulders. "It's safer, now, than the Burrow."

"We're all staying here a spell," Mrs. Weasley said briskly.

"Because it's unplottable?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"The Burrow is no great secret," Mr. Weasley said. "Some Death Eater is bound to know where I live."

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, quickly glancing around the room in case he'd missed her.

"Her house, I suppose," Mrs. Weasley said, looking weary. "Don't know _how_ Dumbledore's protecting her, but he says he's doing _something…_"

"Oh," Harry said, uncertain how to react to this news. Ron was staring into the fire intently, eyebrows furrowed and ears turning very slightly pink. "Well, at least she's safe for now."

Lupin's smile told him he had said the right thing. 

Tonks lifted her head up from her arms and yawned. "Well," she said sleepily, "I should start on those dishes Bill left sitting here on the—" She was interrupted by a long, loud clanking and banging noise from upstairs, followed by Mrs. Black's screeching. 

"Damnit!" Mr. Weasley yelled, slapping his hands over his ears – Mrs. Black's shrill screams had reached a new pitch, and it made Harry's head throb to listen to.

"That will be Snape," Lupin grumbled – loudly. "He's always extra-careful to ring the doorbell, just in case that portraits getting too much sleep."

Mrs. Weasley raced up the stairs and the shrieking ceased once again. She reappeared, looking slightly miffed, followed by a tall man with shoulder-length, greasy black hair and a self-satisfactory smirk, Dislike instantly swelled up in Harry's chest. Professor Snape surveyed them all silently for a moment, his lip curling more with every passing second. 

"For the sixteenth time, Severus," Lupin said patiently, his elbows on the table, rubbing his temples with his index fingers, "you really don't need to ring the doorbell. It's unnecessary and causes a great inconvenience. Not to mention," he added, grimly pinching the bridge of his nose, "more than one headache."

Snape appeared inexpressive. "I see. Common courtesy truly is dead, then. Very well. I will walk in unannounced from hereon." 

"Please do."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Everything alright, Severus? Any developments?"

"Indeed," Snape said quietly. "However, I would prefer, if I may, to relate it to you without," he sneered at Harry, who had plopped next to Ginny and Ron by the hearth, "an audience."

"Certainly," Mr. Weasley said curtly. "Ron, Ginny, Harry, please go upstairs to your rooms. Ginny," he added, seeing his daughter's expression, "if you don't like being alone in that room, you can sleep on the spare cot in the boy's room. And please wash your face. We stopped cleaning the den hours ago." 

Harry and Ron stood, and Harry absently offered his hand to Ginny, pulling her up. The three of them ambled up the stairs quietly, tiptoeing past the hallway, up the next flight of stairs and into the dark, dank room Harry remembered from the previous summer. He licked his lips. There was a bitter taste lingering in the air, dust hanging in the stream of moonlight form the window. 

"Where are the twins?"

"They're renting a pace in Hogsmeade right now," Ron said, dropping himself onto the musty bed. "Lucky blokes."

"Is the business going well?"

"Booming," Ginny said wistfully. "They say they should have started years ago."

"I haven't seen a knut of my royalties," Harry grinned. 

"Maybe they'll let you test the new Snot Suckers," Ginny yawned.

"Snot…"

"It causes noseruns," Ron said flatly. 

"Poor dad," Ginny said thoughtfully. "He kept saying the candy _looked_ innocent enough. Took two days for his sinuses to clear up."

Harry shook his head, sat down on an empty cot and looked Ron in the eye. "Is your dad telling the truth? Nothing's happened?"

Ron shrugged. "That's the story we've been getting. Fudge is going crazy with worry, according to Dad."

"Well," Ginny said, "there _is_ Remus—"

"Gin," Ron sent his sister a warning look.

Harry looked from Ron to Ginny. "What about Remus?"

Ginny gave Ron a disdainful glance.

 "Nothing, really," Ron said, seeing the worry on Harry's face.

Harry's mouth set in a grim line. "I'm really not up for any more mysteries."

"It's not that bad," Ginny said calmly. "Remus has just had a rather bad time of it the last couple months, that's all."

"Yeah," Ron sighed. "Mum keeps lecturing us about being careful around him."

Harry frowned. "He's not made of glass."

"'Course not," Ron scoffed. "But you know my mum. Mother to all, easy on none. Anyway, he's been a bit... er, on edge since his last… uh…"

"Transformation," Harry said tonelessly.

"Exactly," Ginny said. "Dad went downstairs yesterday to make some tea and found Remus crying in the kitchen. That sort of thing."

"Tonks reckons it's the stress," Ron added.

"Tonks?" Harry said quizzically. "Is she staying here as well?"

"Yeah," Ginny said lightly, picking at the mattress. "Dumbledore said it would be a good idea."

"We don't mind the company," Ron said. "Unless You-Know-Who finds out where we are. He could take out half the Order in one swoop."

"Ron," Ginny said, her eyes narrowed. "Stop."

Harry ignored the bickering. "Heard from Hermione?"

Ron's smile faded a little. "Yeah. I think she's more worried than she lets on. Because of her parents, you know."

"So they know what's going on?"

"I don't know. I'm sure she said something to them, but I doubt she's mentioned anything about the Department of Mysteries…" Ron trailed off, looking horrified. 

An awkward silence followed. 

"I'm going to get some water," Ron said nervously, standing from the cot and slouching towards the door.

Harry didn't look up from his hands. 

"Bet you're sick of people asking if you're okay, hmm?"

Harry raised his eyes to meet Ginny's face. She looked sadder than usual; her skin a bit paler, her eyes duller.

"A bit, yeah. Don't really know how to answer, I guess."

Ginny folded her hands and took a breath. "You know, Harry," she said carefully, "I don't know what you're going through, but I do think about it… every day." She paused. "I feel guilty, too."

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I was there, wasn't I? I could have helped. I could have done something." She paused. "I didn't know Sirius that well, and I know my mum would fight with him, but…" her voice took on an even sadder tone, "he was a good man, he was always kind to me, and anyway, he loved you."

Harry lowered his gaze again. His eyes were starting to sting. 

"I just wanted to say that," Ginny said quickly. "You don't have to talk about it or anything."

"There's nothing to talk about, anyway," Harry muttered. He raised his eyes to meet hers. Ginny opened her mouth, as if poised to say something more, and then…

"That bathroom's bloody huge," Ron walked into the small room, stepping over his trunk. "I almost got lost in it."

Ginny grinned and rose from the spare cot. "Right. I'll go wash some of this grit off my face. Lovely," she added thoughtfully, "having more than one bathroom."

"Not that it makes a difference, what with the twins gone," Ron muttered. Ginny patted her brother on the shoulder and left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Ron flopped down on the mattress and wrinkled his nose as a cloud of dust rose around him. "I'm going to ask Mum to do a cleansing charm up her tomorrow. It's bloody disgusting."

"Shouldn't it be cleaner? What happened to…" Harry waved his hand around the room, hoping Ron would get the point. 

Ron looked confused. "Where's what? Oh, Kreacher?"

Harry nodded. 

Ron's eyes grew wide. "Such a weird thing. He's bound to the family of Blacks, right? So now there's no one to serve." Ron shook his head, looking bewildered. "The git killed himself."

Harry felt himself sink lower into the cot. "He… what?"

"Hanged himself," Ron said anxiously. "Lupin found him. All I know is he got a nasty shock when he went down to take a shower."

"But… but how do you know? I mean, how do you know the… details? That he's bound to the family?"

Ron groaned. "Dear old Mrs. Black. Apparently, her and Kreacher had quite a chat, and she gave him instructions. It's a miracle anyone was able to get it out of her. I mean, she shrieks, but all in all we've learned to sort of ignore her entirely."

"Had a chat? They had a _chat_?" Harry felt himself growing hysterical. "The house elf responsible for Sirius's death had a chat with a portrait of his former mistress and then hanged himself?" 

"Well, I guess so," Ron shifted in his seat. "At least he's gone, right? He's not going to be around any—"

"Oh!' Harry said shrilly. "Oh, yes, thank god for that! Now Kreacher's head can hang on the wall with the rest of his family! Yes! Three cheers for justice! Now I can rest easy!"

Ron looked alarmed. 

"Ron!" Ginny stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and mouth slightly open. "What did you do to him?"

"I told him about Kreacher!" 

Ginny shut her eyes, as though attempting to contain herself.

"What? Lupin was going to tell him tonight, anyway."

"Ron, somehow I think if you had let Lupin tell him, he wouldn't be stuck in a cot, shrieking like a banshee!"

"I don't _care_ who told me!"

Ron's perplexed look intensified. "Why are you so upset? I'd've thought you'd be glad he was dead."

"I wanted to try to understand, Ron! I was ready to ask him, to try to talk to him rationally, like Hermione's always raving on about. Then maybe I would have gotten it, maybe some sense, no matter how twisted, would have come of it, and maybe I could forgive him. But I can't now! I can't even _think _of that… that… _beast_ without feeling like I've lost Sirius all over again! You _can't_ undertstand what I mean, because… well, you can't!" Harry had started absently pacing the room, his voice rising in tone until he was practically shouting. 

"Can we ever?" Ginny snapped. "We don't understand anything, remember? We're not orphans, and we don't have to save the world, so we couldn't possibly comprehend the inner-workings of your mind!" She crossed her arms and took a deep breath. "I _know_ that you're angry, Harry, but look around you. Why do you think he did it? He was brainwashed, and Sirius was the enemy. It's awful to think that it's that simple, but it is. You wouldn't have found any closure from Kreacher. You wouldn't have let yourself feel that consolation. I know you." Ginny turned around and left the room, going down the hall in a dangerous silence. 

Ron looked awkwardly from the door to Harry, who had sat back down on the cot. "Seems a bit out of sorts, doesn't she?" 

Harry raised his hand to his face and massaged his forehead. "I'm sorry, Ron. I'm being a git." He rose from the makeshift bed. 

"Maybe you should get some tea or something," Ron said, sounding tired. "They usually hold the meetings in the den, so they probably moved by now."

"Yeah," Harry said vaguely. "Tea. I should apologize to Ginny."

Ron's eyebrows knit together. 


	2. Two

**The Healing Properties of Roots**_ Pt. 2_

+

Harry quietly shut the door behind him. He slowly walked down the hall and silently stepped down the stairs. He sat down in the stairwell and slipped his head into his hands. His breath was getting heavy.  _Calm,_ he thought to himself. _Just be calm._

A sudden burst of raised voices intruded his thoughts. 

"Now, really, Severus, personal attacks are a little low, aren't they?" Arthur Weasley's voice traveled up the stairs.   
"It was not an attack, Arthur," Snape said, sounding bored. "Merely a comment."

"Actually, it was a question," Tonks quipped. 

A door opened, and Harry heard footsteps in the hall downstairs, nearing him. 

"Remus, don't you pay him any mind."

"I'm not, Molly. I'm just getting something to eat."

"Using food as a distraction, Lupin? You should watch that habit. You may find yourself growing portly in your old age."

"Severus!"

"Despite my lycanthropy, Severus," came Lupin's voice coolly, "I have maintained a healthy body and a positive mindset. I will not allow myself to become a galling, loveless, crusty man." He paused. " Like you." 

"Oh, honestly!" Mrs. Weasley boomed.

"Really, you're both acting like children," Tonks said tersely. 

"I have no interest in theatrics," Snape said shortly. "I'll be on my way."

Harry crept down the stairs until he was at the landing. Everyone was standing in the hall, shooting death stares at each other. 

"Very well, Severus," Mr. Weasley was apparently attempting to make peace. "Have a safe journey."

"I shall. Though I will be plagued by the mystery of Lupin's absent answer to my inquiry."

Lupin mumbled something from the kitchen. 

"What was that?" Snape looked surprised. 

"I said I don't even remember what you said, Severus."

Harry stepped into the hall. Tonks noticed him immediately and smiled, looking a bit strained. "Harry, do you want something?"

"Just going to the kitchen…"

"I simply _asked_, Lupin," Snape said sharply, his arms folded and his eyes narrowed, "if you believed you had the skill now to concoct your own potions, instead of running to me every month. I have other things to do with my time." 

"I'm sure I can do it, thank you, Severus. Your sacrifice has been great indeed."  
"I agree. I'll have you know my lesson plans have been cut over the last several months in order to find the time to brew the Wolfsbane, and I would fear my class would suffer for it, if they were not already failing miserably." He glanced at Harry.

Lupin appeared at the kitchen door, weary and tired. "Is that all?"

"Actually," Snape's lip began to curl into one of his poison smiles, "I was wondering how that job interview went. At St. Mungo's?"

Harry looked at Lupin, who stared blankly ahead. 

"I… why, Severus?"

"Just a question, between old friends."

Tonks snorted. Mrs. Weasley gently slapped her arm. 

"It was fine, Severus, thank you for asking. I probably won't get it, because I am, after all, a threat to society, as I'm sure you were waiting to point out. So if that's what you're waiting to hear, be done with it. You're a relatively normal physical being, you have a decent job, and you're about to leave this house."

A pause followed. Mr. Weasley was starting to look ill, and Harry had the distinct impression he was uncomfortable with confrontations.

"Envy me, Lupin?" Snape said quietly. "I suppose even in its most mediocre state, normalcy is something you strive for, only to always be just out of reach."

Harry felt a familiar surge of rage rise in him. Tonks sharply raised her hand to Harry's shoulder, as though she suspected he would attack Snape. He looked at Lupin, whose eyes had just hardened.__

"Do I envy you?" Lupin said in a harsh tone Harry had never heard him use before.

Snape raised his left eyebrow slightly, as if mildly interested in what Lupin had to say.

"Why, yes, Severus, I do envy you. Do you want to know why?"

Snape didn't move.

"Because," Lupin continued in that same rough voice, "you have shrouded yourself in this ridiculous pain since you were a child. You are immune to it. Because you don't know what it feels like to stand by helpless while those you love fall around you. Because some among whom you once considered friends are in Azkaban for horrendous deeds, and you _know_ their guilt for certain." And, for the first time since Harry had met him, Lupin's voice broke in what sounded very much like a loss of control.

Snape's left eyebrow raised slightly more and a ghost of a sneer began to appear on his mouth. "Do you really expect me to stand here and be insulted, Lupin? Or," he added in his soft, dangerous voice, "do you expect me to apologize for your pains?"

"I don't expect you to do anything of the sort." Lupin sounded a bit more stable now. "I don't want you to be insulted, nor do I want your sympathy. I want you to be aware, Severus, of your good fortune. And for god's sakes, to appreciate it."

"My good fortune?" Snape's eyes glinted maliciously and he moved slowly closer to Lupin. "What do you know of my _good fortune_? My past choices will continue to haunt me, Lupin, until the day I die. Not what was thrust on me, not what I was given to contend with, but what I _chose._"

"A life of bitterness and self-loathing seems only too apt, Severus," Lupin said dryly.

Snape's hand twitched. "Carrying on Black's legacy, are we? Very well. It only proves how expendable he truly was - his friends can copy him so completely, it was rather redundant to have the real thing around."

Tonks' grip on Harry's shoulder suddenly tightened and out of the corner of his eye he could see her face slacken. His own heart had started thumping loudly, and he fought to stop the shaking that had begun to course in his body.

"You disliked Sirius," Lupin said quietly, "and I know you don't grieve him, but please don't denounce him in the presence of people who loved him just because I said something childish to vex you." He paused. "There's no point in speaking ill of him. Especially not in front of Harry."

Harry looked at Lupin. It was the first time since Harry had entered the room that Lupin had acknowledged him.

"I didn't realize Potter was so delicate. My mistake."

"Harry's as delicate as every other human being," Lupin straightened himself. "Including yourself." He turned and walked steadily out of the hall and up the stairs.

Mrs. Black stared silently after him.


	3. Three

**The Healing Properties of Roots **_Pt. 3_

_+_

Harry knocked softly on the paint-chipped door to Lupin's room. He heard some shuffling and footsteps scraping towards the door, and the slow creak of rusty hinges. Lupin's eyebrows rose in apparent surprise, and he looked unusually timid. "Harry," he said politely, opening the door all the way. 

"Can we talk, Professor?"

"Certainly." Lupin stepped aside and Harry walked slowly in the room, looking around. It was dark and gray, with musty curtains around a dirty window and an old bed with a dingy mattress sitting in the corner. A small mirror hung on the wall next to a worn-down dresser. "Cheerful place."

Lupin smiled. "Yes, I should clean it up. Maybe I'll do that this week." 

Harry sighed and sat on the mattress, ignoring the loud squeaking of the bed. "Professor, are you alright?"

"I will be if you start calling me Remus and stop calling me 'Professor'."

Harry tried a small smile. "I mean really."

"I'm as well as can be expected." Lupin strode over and took a seat next to Harry. "Actually, Harry, I meant to talk to you tonight."

"If it's about Kreacher, I already know."  
Lupin's forehead furrowed. 

"Ron," Harry said simply.

"Ah," Lupin's expression cleared. "Of course. Well, that's not that important, anyway. Actually," he rose and went over to the battered dresser, opened a drawer and withdrew an envelope, "I wanted to give you this." He walked back to the bed and held out the paper. Harry took it cautiously, a sense of dread rising in his throat. "What is it?"

"Well, I'm not sure." Lupin paused for a moment, looking out the grimy window. "It's from Sirius," he said in a clear voice, slightly louder than usual. "I found it on my bed, next to a letter he wrote to me. He must have slipped in here before we headed to… well, anyway, in my letter he asked that I give this to you personally, which is why I didn't send it over the summer."

The envelope shook in Harry's hands. _Please,_ he thought, _please tell me something good. _

"I don't know what to make of it. He must have… known… something would happen. I don't know." Harry glanced up and saw Lupin's eyes gleaming. "You better go read it."

Harry nodded, got up from the bed and sauntered wordlessly out the door. 

_Harry,                                                                                        __June 5th, '96___

_Well, if you're reading this, something bad must have happened. So first off, sorry about that. I can't just stay here while Moony and Madeye and even Albus go out and risk their hides for you all. (Bloody dumb children, but we love you anyway.) So, if, god forbid, you _are_ reading this letter, it's only because I thought I could be useful and, well, failed. Perhaps I died a hero's death? That would be brilliant. If I kick it because I ate some bad fish, now, that would just be embarrassing. Anyway, the point is, there's a chance (even if it's small) that something awful may happen tonight and if it does, I want you to know that I went to the Ministry by _my choice_. Moony and Tonks and all those other ninnies tried to talk me out of it, but, being stubborn as I am, I refused, and insisted on accompanying them. It's what your dad would have done, and that's the legacy I try to live up to, both to honor his memory, and because he was usually right anyway. (Anyway, who wants to be alone in a house with Kreacher?)_

_So I know this letter seems sort of pointless, but I wanted you to know that though it seems like I'm gone, but I'm not, really. If you need to talk, just let me know, and I'll be there. Maybe you won't be able to see me, but I hope you can feel me. Or, if you're more into actually _conversing_ with someone, give Remus a try. You probably know that he excels in patience, but he's also understanding and good-natured. He's a bit guarded at times, but he's loved you since you were born. Before you were born, if you're being nitpicky about details. If it weren't for the laws against part-humans, Lily and James would named him co-godfather (yes, that is an actual term.)_

_Can I give you some advice? I'm much older and wiser and all that, so listen here: That Weasley girl? Ginny? Yeah. You're not going to ever do better than her. Tonks just adores her (and Hermione) and we've been hearing about her non-stop. She seems very bright and brave and like a shorter version of your mother, though that analogy may annoy you. And, if I may add, she's quite the looker. (Not that I thought of her like that. I'm old enough to be her father. Or at least her favorite, handsome uncle.) So if you should ever learn that she still fancies you, jump on the opportunity. _

_Did I ever mention you have Lily's nose? It's almost eerie._

_One more thing.__ A request. Take care of Remus, will you? Just, when you grow up and become all successful and happy and whatnot, check up on him once in a while, just for a chat. I don't want him to ever feel alone again. _

_So I guess this is the parting. I very well may leave the world tonight, and if I do, it's because I knew what I was risking and took the chance anyway. If you're not willing to sacrifice your life for something, it's a life not worth living. _

_I reckon it's not too corny to say this, then, eh? Alright. I love you. Very much. I'll see you again someday. I promise._

_Sincerely, love, cordially, yours, etc. etc.,_

_Sirius_

Harry reread the letter four times before he looked up. 

Soft, clear moonlight was pouring through the open window over Ron's bed and Harry could hear branches swaying in the breeze outside. Tonks had just let out a shriek followed by boisterous laughter in the kitchen downstairs. A cricket was chirping on the windowsill. The door creaked and Ginny stuck her head in. "Harry?"

He turned his head towards her. "Hmm?"

"Mum says tea's ready, if you want any. She said she doubts anyone's really going to sleep tonight, what with you just arriving and all. There are scones from this morning."

"Thanks."

Ginny paused in the doorway. Harry stared at her. The cricket continued to chirp.

"Is there something you want to say?" Ginny asked finally. 

"Um." Harry scratched his head. "Sorry I yelled. I was out of line."

Ginny's shoulders relaxed. "That's alright. You were upset."

"Everyone's upset. I'm being selfish."

"Well. Yes, you are. But that's alright."

"I'll stop."

"Okay."

_Chirp. Chirp._

"Tea?"

"Yes." He stood, placed the letter under his blankets and walked towards the door. Ginny took a step back so he could pass. He paused, examining her face briefly. 

"What?" she asked blankly.

"Nothing. You have your mother's nose, that's all."

He trotted down the stairs, hands in his pockets, whistling brightly. Ginny stood at the doorway of the small bedroom, watching him disappear down the long, narrow stairway. _Good lord,_ she thought. _That boy runs hot and cold._

She walked towards the stairs and found herself fighting a smile. 


End file.
